Teaching Restorative Yoga: Creating the Conditions for Restoration
Updated: Sep 3
People often arrive to a restorative yoga class carrying far more than the teacher may recognize. The students may know that their shoulders hurt or that they haven’t been sleeping well. They may know they are tired, overwhelmed, grieving, irritated, or simply “off.”
But there are other things we all may not recognize that we are carrying—the accumulated tension of a difficult week, responsibility for other people, uncertainty about what comes next, the vigilance of a nervous system that has forgotten how to stand down, or simply the weight of moving through a particular phase of life.
Some of what we carry is conscious, but however much of it is not. And even as I read that last sentence, I notice how easy it is to hold my breath. When I think about teaching restorative yoga, I am interested in more than the poses themselves. I am interested in a larger question:
How do I create the conditions that allow another person to exhale?
The exhale is such a simple thing. We do it thousands of times a day. And yet there is a difference between breathing out and truly letting go.
We have become extraordinarily skilled at holding. We hold our bellies in. We hold our shoulders up. We hold our tongues. We hold schedules, families, jobs, expectations, worries, identities, and responsibilities. We hold ourselves together. Sometimes that holding is necessary. Sometimes it has helped us navigate difficult circumstances. The body and nervous system are remarkably intelligent in this way. The challenge is that we may continue holding long after the moment requiring it has passed.
Restorative practices asks something different of us.
It asks: What would happen if, for this moment, nothing were required of us? This is one reason restorative yoga can be so powerful. Props support the body so the body does not have to support itself in quite the same way. The floor holds us. The bolster holds us. The blankets hold us. Gravity holds us.
And the teacher is also holding something. Not the person. Not their emotions. Not their experience. We are holding the conditions in which another person might feel safe enough to soften. That distinction matters.
We cannot make another person relax.
In fact, the instruction to “relax” can become one more thing to accomplish. We cannot know everything someone carried into the room, nor do we need to. Our work is not to extract their story or determine what needs healing. Our work is to pay attention to the environment we are creating and, perhaps even more importantly, the attitude we bring into that environment.
Ask yourself:
Is there enough time?
Is there enough quiet?
Do people feel that they can move, adjust, decline, or choose another position?
Does my voice invite rather than demand?
Am I filling every silence because silence makes me uncomfortable?
Can I allow someone to have an experience without needing to interpret it, fix it, or even understand it?
This attitude extends far beyond teaching a restorative yoga class. I can bring it to someone sitting across from me at lunch. I can bring it into a conversation with a friend who is telling me something difficult. I can bring it into my home when I welcome people through the door.
Is what am I doing, consciously and subtly, that communicating: You do not have to perform here?
Sometimes supporting the exhale means offering a prop. Sometimes it means dimming the lights. Sometimes it means allowing three more breaths before giving the next instruction. Sometimes it means not asking another question. Sometimes it means resisting the urge to fix something. And sometimes it is simply the attitude I carry into the room: I am not asking anything from you right now.
Our need for restoration also evolves over time.
There are periods of expansion and periods of contraction, times of tremendous productivity and times when the most intelligent thing we can do is conserve our resources. There are external factors and internal ones. What restored us five years ago may not be what restores us today.
Perhaps part of restorative practice is learning to notice the moment we are actually in rather than insisting upon the one we think we should be in.
For those of us who teach and hold space for others, this creates an important responsibility. We do not need to know exactly what someone is carrying in order to recognize that we are all carrying something.
And we do not have to take that burden from another person. Instead, we can become attentive to the conditions around us—the pace, the language, the choices offered, the silence, the physical support, and our own presence and attitude.
Perhaps the softening begins there. Not with asking someone to let go.
But with creating a space in which, perhaps for just a few moments, we discover that we no longer need to hold quite so tightly.
And then allowing the exhale to come on its own.
If you are interested in learning more about Restorative Yoga; the poses, the science of the nervous system and sharing the art of rest with others, join me Nov. 6-8, 2026 at Sanctuary Yoga in Nashville!
Early Bird Discount ends Oct. 2nd so be sure to register!
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